


I've Grown Accustomed to His Face

by jbird181



Series: 13 Days of Falling in Love [7]
Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Art History Major! Stone, Computer Science Major! Ezekiel, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Ezekiel is oblivious, Fluff, M/M, Physics Major! Cassandra, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-21 00:05:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9521915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbird181/pseuds/jbird181
Summary: Ezekiel's roommate, Stone, is a morning person; he hates him on principle. Well, he does at first.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Day 7: Stockholm Syndrome
> 
> The title comes from the _My Fair Lady_ song [I've Grown Accustomed to Her Face](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zDUrv4nULwU).

My roommate, Jacob Stone, is a morning person. I hated him on principle.

 

“He _chooses_ to take 8 a.m. classes, Cassandra. He literally went ‘You know what I want to do? Wake up at the crack of dawn to learn about art history.’ Who does that?!”

 

Cassandra laughed and gestured with her sandwich. “Some people like to get their classes out of the way early.”

 

I took one of her chips. “He always wakes me up.”

 

“Well, why don’t you ask him to be quieter?”

 

 _Yeah, right._ I could imagine the pretentious look on his face now. It was clear from the first time we met what Stone thought of me. He’d looked me up and down, taken in my old clothes and single box filled with only the necessities, and his expression said it all. _Poor orphaned scholarship kid._ I’d heard it all before, and I didn’t want his pity.

 

“Hi, I’m Jake Stone,” he’d said. “Nice to meet you.” _Nice to meet me, my ass._

 

“Ezekiel Jones,” I answered and went about unpacking as if he wasn’t there. Better to establish the expectations early. I wasn’t at college to make friends, I was there to get a degree so I could get a job so I’d never be at the mercy of others again.

 

My neatly folded and stacked items starkly contrasted to the clothes explosion that had somehow already taken place on his side of the room. _Artists._ Stone could act uptight all he wanted, but I could hear his slight southern accent. He could pretend all he wanted, but it was clear there was Oklahoma soil in his boot treads.

 

“Cassandra, he once asked me to move off my own bed because I was ‘blocking the light.’”

 

She winced. “Wow. You’re always welcome at my dorm, okay?”

 

I took a deep breath to calm myself. “Okay.”

 

She checked her phone. “I have to get to class! Want to go to the activities fair together later?”

 

“Sure.” Cassandra left me the rest of her chips. _What would I do without her?_

***

 _And... done._ I stretched up towards the ceiling and groaned. I probably should’ve proofread my essay, but I really didn’t feel like doing it at two a.m. The campus library had kicked me out two hours ago, so I’d retreated to my dorm room. I probably should brush my teeth, but that wasn’t likely to happen either considering how comfortable my bed was… I jerked myself awake. Maybe I should start doing my homework at my desk.

 

I shut my laptop, set it on my nightstand, and went to slide off my bed when I noticed Stone sitting at his desk sketching something. I jumped for the second time in five minutes. _How did I not notice him earlier?_ “You’re still awake?” Usually Stone was in bed by eleven, you know, because of those eight a.m. classes. We’ve fought many, many times over the lights. I needed them on because I was trying to do work, but he was trying to sleep. Most of those fights ended in me storming out to study in Cassandra’s room.

 

Stone ran a hand through his hair and smiled sleepily at me. He must’ve been _really_ tired. “Yeah. Just gotta finish this. For tomorrow. Life drawing.” Suddenly his eyes widened. “Hold up your hand. Please?”

 

“Uh, okay?” I lifted my hand.

 

“Reach up, like you’re waving. Spread your fingers out a little more.” I was ninety percent sure I had fallen asleep writing my English essay and was currently dreaming, so I complied. “Good. Great. Now hold it.” I could do that. Stone started to sketch furiously, turning around every so often to stare intensely at me.

 

It must be an artist thing.

 

Finally, he set down his pencil. “Thanks, Ezekiel.” He smiled again, and I smiled back instinctively.

 

“Sure, mate.” Stone was still sitting at his desk and _staring_ at me. All of a sudden I was acutely aware of my second-hand button-down and my scuffed-up shoes and the way my bangs were insisting on sticking up today.

 

I rubbed the back of my neck, shifting awkwardly. “I’m gonna, you know, go. Brush my teeth. The works.”

 

He looked down. “Right. Me too.”

 

I tried (and probably failed) to look casual as I left our room.

***

After a while, I got used to being woken up early. I even started to enjoy the early-morning hours where I could just lie in my bed and listen to the shower running. It was soothing.

 

During that time, it was like I was still dreaming, everything was soft and warm and I didn't have to worry about projects or readings or keeping my scholarship.

 

I just existed.

 

It was a nice way to wake up.

***

“Hey, do you want to study together for the history test?” asked Stone as I walked into our room from dinner. I swung my backpack off my shoulder and set it next to my bed.

 

“The history test?”

 

“You know, the midterm.” At my dumbfounded look he added, “World History. With Mrs. Shapiro?”

 

“Oh, right. Wait, you're in my class? Since when?!”

 

Stone stared at me. “...Since the beginning of the year, Ezekiel.”

 

“Oh.” I was beginning to wish I'd taken Cassandra up on her invitation to go to the orchestra concert tonight.

 

“So, do you want to?”

 

“Want to what?” Stone lifted his history textbook, and I facepalmed, internally and externally. “Oh, you mean study. Sure, that'd be great. We can do that,” I babbled, completely aware I was acting like an idiot but somehow unable to stop. _How hadn't I realized we were in the same class?_ It was big, sure, but shouldn't I have realized already?

 

“Why didn't you tell me we were in the same class?” I blurted out.

 

“You hated me,” Stone says simply, averting his eyes.

 

“No I didn't. Well, that's not entirely true.” I fiddled with the hem of my shirt, unable to meet his eyes either. “I didn't like you very much. But… but I do now.” I hadn't really thought about it before, but I actually didn't mind having Stone around anymore. _Huh. That's a thought for another day._

 

I grabbed a bag of rainbow Goldfish from my backpack and started eating them before I could say anything else embarrassing. I tossed one up and caught it in my mouth, then sat on my bed and patted my desk chair. “Anyways, quiz me.”

 

We settled into a rhythm of Stone asking me questions about industrialization and me eating Goldfish and answering them. About halfway through the study guide, I decided to switch things up. “Your turn.” I thought back to the chapter. “What were some of the factors that allowed industrialization to start in England?”

 

Stone smiled. “Easy. The main ones were raw materials, entrepreneurs, and people with capital willing to invest in the entrepreneurs.”

 

“Correct,” I sing-songed and tossed a Goldfish at him. He floundered bravely trying to catch it to no avail; the Goldfish ended up on the floor.

 

“What the heck man?!”

 

“You were supposed to catch it,” I explained, even though it should've been obvious. Stone flung up his hands and looked skyward as if asking what he had done to deserve me.

 

“So, are you going to eat that or…”

***

I should've been overjoyed when Stone went home for winter break. Tentative friendship or not, having the room to myself should've been great. Cassandra had left too, so the break was supposed to be a time of blissful catching up on sleep and tv shows I had missed while studying for finals. Despite this, when I woke up at eleven to pounding bass elsewhere in the hall instead of running water (and occasional singing), I couldn't help but feel strangely disappointed.

***

“Stone!” I cried, performing an action that in a less dignified person might be called flinging myself off my bed to hug him. (Don't judge me, I'd been alone except for the lunch ladies, a couple other kids who either had nowhere else to go or lived too far away, and the cast of Brooklyn Nine-Nine for more than two weeks.)

 

Stone, to my surprise, awkwardly patted me on the back before resting his hands on my shoulder blades. “Hey, Ezekiel.”

 

“I missed you,” I whispered, unsure whether or not I wanted him to hear. I shouldn't have, but I did. And I'd had a lot of time to myself to think about why.

 

“I missed you too,” he laughed, then pulled me closer before releasing me. I reluctantly stepped back. “Actually, I was meaning to ask you, the drama club’s winter show is happening next week, _My Fair Lady_ , and I was wondering…” Stone ran a hand through his hair and huffed. “I was wondering if you wanted to go with me. I understand if you're not interested—”

 

“I’d love to,” I said a little too quickly, unable to stop myself from smiling.

 

“Great!” Stone smiled back. “It's a date.”

  
I had to fervently remind myself that victory fist-pumps weren't cool.

**Author's Note:**

> I kinda want to write a sequel in this verse. If you'd be interested in reading it, let me know either here or on [tumblr](https://jbird181.tumblr.com).


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